Dreams of a Dark Apocalypse
by SMNMX
Summary: When the Irken thief X becomes trapped in a hideous failed experiment and banished to Earth, it becomes his mission to find the scientist who created the machine and gain revenge against those that did this to him... the Almighty Tallest.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Nickelodeon, Invader Zim and all related titles, characters, and logos are trademarks of Viacom International Inc. (yes, I copied that from my DVD box). I don't own this stuff. I'm just an obsessed fan. I only created SMNM-X (or X, as he is known earlier on), the SMNMs, and Zeffie for the purpose of this and other fanfictions). Thank you, Jhonen Vasquez and everyone else who helped make Zim a reality.

DREAMS OF DARK APOCALYPSE

By SMNM-X

Prologue

X darted between the shadows of the alley, his highly trained vision picking up even the smallest landmarks, of which the city had few. The planet of Irk was populated with many identical buildings, but X new every one from every other. He had to. It was life or death for him.

The huge Irken capital city had always been easy to maneuver without capture, but new security was being instated to keep crime at bay. The sprawling city stretched out across the planet for hundreds of miles, and information travelled slowly. And it was insanely rich, packed with cumulative wealth of the hundreds of planets enslaved to the Irken Empire. In short, it was a thief's paradise.

This particular thief stopped and scampered up a long energy pipe. HIs darkened, mud-splattered shirt flapped around him in the wind, his skin showing through the holes from many rips. His green eyes flashed when the sunlight found its way through the polluted atmosphere and lit up the shadows.

The pipe ound its way up the tall slum buildings, often forcing him to climb upside down to navigate some of the more claustrophobic squeezes between buildings, when it narrowed to tunnel into the houses. X could have used the military-issue spider-legs attached to his Pak, but then the tracking device implanted in all military Paks would be able to transmit his location again. The nullifier he had added wouldn't function with part of the Pak open.

Finally the pipe curved up to the roof of the final slum in the block. X leapt lightly onto the sloping, eroding rooftop and crouched down instantly. After many years of practice, he required no time to rest after the long climb, and instantly his eyes darted around for danger.

Slowly, cautiously, he stood up. He breathed deeply. The stench of the slum district was lessened up here. He had chosen this building specifically, as he could see for many miles across the city from this particular vantage point. He longed to go and live in the richer, less crowded districts a few miles off, but he needed to hideout here. Crime was so high in the slums that no one would notice another crook hiding in their building. The other parts of the city were just for work, under the cover of night.

Sighing deeply, X leapt off the roof, and landed, cat-like, on the ground eight stories below. He rose, turned around, and received, free of charge, a fist in the face from the Hobo guard waiting for him.

X blacked out.


	2. Part 1: Banishment

PART 1: BANISHMENT

Chapter 1

Military Research Base, Irk

The large circular room was dimly lit by two long beams curving across the domed white ceiling. All the walls were the same blinding white. In the middle of the room sat the Tallest, Red and Purple, behind a white table. At one end of the room there was a pair of double doors.

The doors slid open. In walked an Irken female surrounded by guards. The female was dressed in blue civilian clothing and seemed fairly relaxed. However, her deep blue eyes seemed to tell the tales of a thousand hardships. As the guards dispersed to surround the room, she walked towards the Tallest.

As she reached the table, a view screen slid out of it. Red picked up the screen and looked at it. Purple remained absorbed in his nachos.

Red looked up at the female. "So... Zeffie? It says here that you were head of the Smeet Enhancement Program here for six years?"

"Yes."

"But you quit ten years ago. It says that you then began funding your own private research?"

Purple began choking on a nacho.

"That is correct."

"What were you researching?"

"More ways to improve Irken bio-engineering."

Purple finished choking, and started loudly slurping a soda.

"But that was your job here. And you were paid to work here. Why did you stop?"

"I wasn't given enough freedom to research my project"

"And your project is?"

Purple burped. Zeffie grinned. The door at the end of the room opened, and in walked...

"The SMNM," announced Zeffie proudly, "It stands for Scientific Machine of Neuro-technological Militariness. And as you can see, it will revolutionize Invading."

The thing looked something like an elongated SIR unit. The whole thing was shaped rather like a human, but it's head was still like a SIR's, with two parts, the eyes set into the connector in the middle. The torso was mostly one part, with a red middle, although at the waist it became a second part. The arms and legs were made out of a flexible metal material, on a thicker version of a SIR's arms.

The strangest part was on the back though. Mounted on two grooves, was a Irken Pak.

"Uh... what is it?" ventured Red, Purple being absorbed in a packet of potato chips.

"I told you, it's a Scientific-"

"Yes, but what does it do?"

Purple noisily crunched a potato chip.

"Lot's of things. Would you like a demonstration?"

Red seemed confused, so he turned to Purple, who shrugged. Red looked at Zeffie and slowly nodded.

"Excellent." Zeffie clapped her hands and two Irkens came in holding a strange chair. It had several dangerous looking metal tubes coming out of it. The assistants placed the chair next to Zeffie and she sat down in it.

"The chair is a remote control unit," explained Zeffie, "Although the final version of the SMNM will have to have a real Pak installed, as the commands won't be able to reach it, this prototype has a Pak with a blank personality. By plugging my own Pak into this chair, I take control!"

With that, she pressed a button on the chair's arm and the tubes shot into her Pak. For a moment she flinched and twitched, but then she fell still.

Suddenly, the SMNM came to life. It began to walk across the room. It leapt high into the air and gripped the ceiling with the spider-legs that had burst out of it's Pak. It scuttled to the ground, where the spider-legs became a jet pack, and flew across the room towards the Tallest.

Then it spoke.

"You see, the SMNM can perform everything an Invader could, and more," said Zeffie's voice. "It is ten times stronger than an average Invader, and is also filled with useful gadgets. In fact, if you sent an SMNM to conquer a planet, it wouldn't even need a SIR unit. The SMNM features all the radar, strength, weapons, and communications systems that a SIR would. Let me demonstrate."

The SMNM's chest flew open and missiles and lasers unfolded. They pointed every which way. Several rockets fired off and began zooming towards the Tallest. Just before they found their targets, however, lasers pierced through them and they exploded, reigning debris around the table.

Red's mouth hung open, and Purple was eating faster than ever to calm his nerves.

An irritating beeping noise began to fill the room.

"It's mine!" yelled Red, and dived below the table. He came up holding a handheld communications device. He flipped it open. "Hello?"

"How do you like the built in communications?" said Zeffie's voice. It sounded muffled, coming from the handheld, compared to the exact replication of her real voice that the SMNM had produced.

Red's eyes widened in shock.

Suddenly, Zeffie's eyes snapped back open.

"How did you like it?"

"Um... your... your robot... is... very nice..." stammered Red.

"So?" pushed Zeffie, "Will you use it? Will it become an Invader-replacement?"

"Uh... give us time to think, Zeffie..."

Red turned to Purple, who was just finishing of his third soda.

"This... thing she's created... it doesn't seem right... and she seems so arrogant... she seems to think that we have to love her project... but don't worry.

"Who's worrying?"

"...I have a plan that means we'll never have to hear from her or her work again!"

He turned back to Zeffie.

"We have considered your work, and decided that we might use it..."

"MIGHT?"

"...If it completes one last test"

"...but..."

"Your device... this... SMNM... thing... must successfully invade one planet of our choosing before we start to produce more of them."

"And that planet is?" asked Zeffie through gritted teeth.

"Planet Earth," finished Red triumphantly.

"EARTH? BUT... BUT THAT'S WERE ZIM IS!"

"So?" asked Red coolly.

"HE... HE... he..., well... well first of all, your sending it to a planet where an Invader already is, and-"

"You know as well as us that Zim doesn't count as an Invader. You know he was banished."

"Ok... but... BUT ZIM'S GOING TO BLOW UP HIMSELF AND THAT PLANET ANY DAY NOW! HE'S INCOMPETENT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Red grinned.

"Can't we?" he said.

"You... YOU... AAAAAAAAH!"

Zeffie's spider-legs burst out of her Pak. She rose up on them and towered above the Tallest.

"I'M GONNA CRUSH YOU!"

She raised one of her spider-legs to attack, but suddenly screamed and fell to the floor. Behind her were some of the guards holding huge tasers. They plugged a Suppressor into Zeffie's Pak to stop all it's functions except her personality, then they handcuffed her.

"Oh, and by the way Zeffie..." added Red, "You're banished"

"Wha...wha..." stammered Zeffie. Her eyes were huge, and she began to tremble with fear.

"You heard. You're banished."

All traces of shock melted away from Zeffie and were again replaced by fury.

"I'LL GET YOU! I'LL GET YOOOOUUU!" screamed Zeffie as she was hauled away.

Just as the guards taking Zeffie were leaving the room, Purple rose for the first time and called out to them.

"STOP!"

The guards turned, and a glimmer of hope shone through the anger in Zeffie's face.

"Can one of you get me another soda on the way out?" asked Purple.

Zeffie howled, and the double doors closed behind her.

Chapter 2

Bridge, The Massive. Five days later

The huge Irken Armada rumbled through space, and at its head lay the great Massive, the most powerful of all ships. It was home to the Tallest, the Irken leaders, and, although not known for leading very much, they had their share of problems. Now, as they stood on the bridge of their mighty ship, they were discussing one of them.

"Do we have to?" moaned Tallest Purple.

"We gave her our word. Even though she's banished, we still gave her our word, in front of witnesses. We have to send her robot thing to Earth," replied Tallest Red.

"But why does it need a Pak? This could be dangerous! We never said that the robot had to have a brain when it took over Earth, did we? We could just send a dead lump of metal there!"

"Because this way, we're killing two birds with one stone."

Red turned and floated through the bridge doorway, and down the corridors of the Massive. Purple, whimpering slightly and slurping a soda, followed.

Red zoomed through the twisting corridors, down into the lowest and darkest corner of the Massive. Here there was practically no technology, and where there was it was heavily armored and disguised. This was the Massive's prison bay.

No matter how many prison ships the Armada had, it was also vital to have a jail in the head ship for times of trouble. Right now there was only one prisoner, but they needed all the guards of the prison just to keep him at bay.

The Tallest zoomed round, never being questioned as to their business here by the guards. It was not hard to tell who the Tallest where, and if you did question them, you'd find yourself banished to Foodcourtia or some other intergalactic cesspool of pain.

As Red and Purple rounded the last corner, they slowed and turned. In front of them, incased in a glowing green energy sphere, was one of Irk's most hated creatures. It was the thief known only as X.

Purple gulped. "I really don't like this idea!" he stammered, "This guy is dangerous enough as is, without sticking him in some war robot!"

"It'll be fine. ZIM will blow himself and X up soon," said Red calmly, "Remember what he was saying about that energy ray? I had the plans examined, and it will send out a shockwave of doom, obliterating everything on or around Earth! Including ZIM!"

"Oh..." said Purple, but he still didn't sound convinced.

X was yelling something at the Tallest, but the sphere was sound proof.

"Well, come on! We don't have all day, you know!" yelled Red at the scientists.

"Sorry, my Tallest." they mumbled and began to type things into computer terminals.

"Are we good to go?" asked Red.

"Yes, my Tallest!" replied the chief scientist, "Shall we deactivate him?"

"Yes, get on with it."

The scientist pushed a button, and X fell to the floor, his eyes still open.

"We have a Suppressor built into his Pak. We've set it to deactivate all functions for now. His biological rhythms are still normal, but his mind is completely blank, at least for now. I don't want to be near him when he wakes up. He'll reactivate near this Earth place. Hopefully we'll never here from him again."

"Good. Hurry up. I'm hungry."

"Yeah! We're hungry, OK?" exclaimed Purple. He'd finished his soda, and was rubbing his stomach ruefully.

The scientists hauled X onto a metal table, and rolled him onto his back. The chief pressed another button on the Suppressor's controls, and the Pak detached itself from X's back. Carefully, they removed it and carried it over to the SMNM prototype. They slid the Pak into the grooves designed to hold it, and it shot connectors into the robot's back. The connection was complete, and the robot shell was hurried into a space pod.

The pod's door slammed shut behind the SMNM, and the pod rode a tractor beam into the air lock. The Tallest watched as the ship disappeared into the distance, and Red thought he could faintly make out, through a porthole, the robot's lifeless face. It somehow managed to look threatening.

Red shuddered, his confidence ebbing somewhat. Somehow, it didn't seem like it would be the last time he saw that face.

Chapter 3

United States of America, Planet Earth

At the end of the western spiral arm of the galaxy, there lies a small, blue-green planet by the name of Earth, only ever visited by mildly interested college students getting degrees in "Worst Places To Live Realty." It is populated mainly by a species so horrific, so horrendously squishy and primitive that most civilized species try not to mention it at all, if possible, and this is made easier by the fact that the species was so unintelligent that they hadn't even made successful contact with other species yet. In fact, the "humans," as they were called, couldn't even communicate with other species on their own planet!

Hard to imagine such stupidity, isn't it?

They even still divided themselves under national governments, instead of one unified planetary one. One of these national groups was called the United States of America, and was separated into fifty even smaller groups known as "states." But this is just a small example of their barbaric ways, since each and every city also had its own "mayor" and ruling body.

But this is all fine-print for our story, and in reality no one gives a Schloogorgh's eye about any of this, and the real point I am trying to make is this:

Deep within the hideous insanity of the "suburban" (soob-ar-bin) communities surrounding a major city in this U.S. of A., was a small, out of place abode. With a synthetic purple roof, green sub-energy walls and an interior that somehow defied the laws of physics and was much larger than the building's walls could ever allow, you might think it was perfectly normal. But for the Earth monkeys, it was... unusual, compared to the larger building's made out of some sort of rectangular rock known as a "brick", and interiors that obeyed the rather old-fashioned concept of being "physically possible."

Fortunately for its owner, the squishies were a particularly ignorant breed, and didn't overly notice. Its owner was actually a very small Irken called ZIM who had severe personality problems. "Severe" doesn't even hope to justify little ZIM's problem. Suffice to say, it has been recently proven in the Vortian Prison Research Facilities that he had an ego the size of a medium-to-large sized nebula. And this little Irken was currently standing on his roof.

"GIR, witness my next ingeious plan! GIR? GIR! ... Where are you, GIR?"

"I'm makin' tacos!"

A small robot clambered onto the roof through an open window, carrying a plate of small, syrup covered foodstuffs.

"You want a taco?"

"No, GIR. Never again."

"YOU WANT A TACO?"

"No, GIR. I do not want a taco!"

"YOU WANT A TACO?"

"No! You know I hate its hideous taco bean meat! Besides, I've called you here to watch as I singlehandedly destroy the humans, then pose triumphantly as the Armada descends to greet my victory! I've already practiced the pose! Here, check it out."

He contorted his body into a position of such self-obsessed pride that several species have had mental allergic reactions to it causing their cerebral cortexes to explode.

"I wanna taco!"

GIR shoved the tacos into his mouth, plate and all. He chewed for a moment, choked, coughed up taco juice, chewed, and swallowed.

"I like da tacos!"

"Yes, of course you do... Of course you do... Now witness!"

ZIM pushed a button on the communications dish on his roof. It quickly folded itself up and retreated into the house's roofing. In its place rose a huge hydro-searing death cannon, quite capable of wiping out any water-based planet.

"It's got mayo on it!"

"No, GIR, it does not have may-oh-nays on it. It is the Hydro-Doom 5000. The other four thousand, nine hundred ninety-nine simply made the water make strange flatulence noises, but I've solved the problem and now it will wipe out the entire planet in a super-heated vapor doom!"

"Mayo..."

"No, GIR. No mayo on my cannon."

"I'm gonna climb on it!"

"O-kay... I'll start the ray charging then, shall I?"

"Okee Dokee!"

ZIM pressed a button, and a bar along the side of the ray slowly inched forwards.

"Eh... this might take awhile."

"I'm gonna get more mayonnaise!"

"You do that, GIR. I'm going to practice my pose some more."

"Yay! Mayo!"

The little robot rolled off the cannon and subsequently off the edge of the roof. It was lucky that he did, for just a second after ZIM had twisted into his victory stance, a small flaming spacecraft hurtled through the sky and smashed straight into the death ray, sending pieces of Earth's doom hurtling every which way.

ZIM's eye twitched, and sanity decided to step out the door for a breath of fresh air.

Chapter 4

Five minutes ago, a small spaceship slowly began to enter Earth's atmosphere, its screening technology swatting away the simple probing rays that the human governments sent out to spot for things just like this. It wasn't very large, just an engine and basic computer guidance, with just enough room to fit a medium sized Irken. It didn't even feature life support, since this was a craft designed to carry attack robots, and traditionally were shot out in droves from a warship circling a planet under siege. This one, however, was being used for a simple one-way transport mission.

Inside the tiny cabin, a robotic voice rang out.

"Hey."

Sensing no response, the ship's onboard computer tried again.

"Hey."

Again sensing nothing, it manipulated its life-support connections to its passenger in a way that probably wasn't programmed in.

"Hey!"

Three thousand volts of electricity sped through the wires connecting pilot and passenger, effectively jarring X's pack alive, while simultaneously and unknowingly shorting out the Pak's tracking device, thanks to slight damage in the chip's covering that had occurred over the years.

"EEAGH!"

"Much better."

"Aaah... my head... my back..."

"I thought you might be interested to hear we are nearing our destination."

"What destination? I'm not in prison anymore?"

"No. I have been programmed to take you to planet Earth as your banishment. It is an interesting side-note that I have also been programmed to destroy myself in the process, to leave you stranded. Not that I, as a machine, have any concept of interest"

"Oh. I see. Wait, what?"

"I have been programmed to-"

"Stop! How... are you going to destroy yourself?"

"Entering atmosphere. Activating landing thrusters... not."

"Oh no. No! I may be banished, but I'm not being banished in a crashed ship! Just... just fly off again after we land!"

"Impossible. My main thrusters are nearly out of fuel as it is. Don't worry, though. You don't have to feel any pain. Just shut down until after the crash."

"Shut... down?"

"Yes. All us machines can do it."

"Machines? No, I'm... Irken?"

He glanced down at himself and noticed, for the first time, his brand new sleek, metallic exterior.

"Oh no... Oh no! NO! I can't be... I can't! I'm Irken, dammit!"

"Negative. All bio-scans reveal no living material. You are a robot, although a finely crafted and advanced one."

"NO! YOU FLY BACK NOW! I NEED MY BODY!"

"No. Although I cannot fly back, even if I could it would be of no use."

"Why not?"

"My link to the Massive tells me your body is being incinerated as we speak."

An incomprehensible distance away, Red grinned and brushed his hands off. He turned to the crew of garbage disposal drones.

"Well, that's him finished!"

"Landing in 10- 9- 8-"

"You turn back now!"

"7- 6- 5-"

"I'm warning you!"

"4- 3- systems shutting down"

"OH NO YOU DON'T-"

The ship crashed.

Chapter 5

ZIM's head wobble slowly back and forth, his eyes bulging, and his mouth silently contorting itself into hideous forms, yet no sound left his lips. The thing that had crushed his beautiful cannon seemed to be some sort of mechanical asteroid. It was much too small to be a ship of any kind. There was no room for controls or life support inside that tiny thing, and it had no windows, although it could feasibly have had cameras transmitting data inside.

ZIM goggled. ZIM groaned, ZIM burst forth with the most explicit collection of profanity ever heard that carried on for several minutes. There was the sound of things breaking inside his house, but he didn't seem to care. His mouth stayed stretched open, hurling out curses and unfulfillable promises. Then, suddenly, a damaged door in the strange object slowly creaked outward.

"Ah... my _head_!"

A large robot, quite a bit taller than ZIM, fell outwards from the machine.

"Ah! Ow..."

The robot cradled his head in his arms. Obviously, he thought, that had all been a bad dream when he was under the toxic influence of a truth drug. He'd felt this hideous feeling once before, when he had been captured by a rival gang. He must be in the Massive, back in his protective cell.

He opened his eyes. At least, he tried to, but they weren't his eyes. Strange symbols and information buzzed before his eyes. Everywhere he looked, X-rays and bio-scans blurred up, revealing information about their subjects.

"AH!" he screamed.

He stared at ZIM, and instantly the Irken's body was enlarged in a corner of his vision, going through a kind of cross-section zoom.

"AAH!"

He looked down at his hands, and a brief chip scan took place, taking approximately .00001 seconds to read all of the information contained in them. A small window popped up, featuring 3D blueprints, a list of important points about his hand, and a scrolling text block that read:

_SMNM ( HAND )_

_Scientific Machine of Neurotechnological Militariness. Designed as an Invader replacement by Zeffie (Irken, Insanely Brilliant Degrees in Military Technology and Neurosciences). Features all functionality of Invader and SIR, plus additional knowledge and power. Also allows Irken pak to be installed as controlling mind._

"AAAAAAAAH!"

X fell to the ground.

"NO! NO! NOOOO!"

ZIM, on the other hand, was now dumbfounded by something completely other than the destruction of his cannon. He had spotted the insignia branded on X's head.

"You're... Irken!" he cried.

"NO! Not anymore! Agh... no... no... no..."

"Yes! I see now! You're an Irken battle droid, sent by the Tallest to aid me! Thank you thank you thank you! I have to go thank the Tallest and-"

"I BROUGHT THE MAYONNAISE!"

GIR ran back up the roof, carrying a bowl of mayonnaise filled with shards of glass. He dumped the bowl upside-down on ZIM's head and sat on top of it.

"GIR?"

The little robot's eyes glowed red.

"Yes, my master?"

"Get off my head. And take your filthy mayo. You're getting glass in my eye."

"Yay! Glass!"

GIR grabbed the bowl from ZIM's head and swallowed it.

"Thank you, GIR. Now, go watch TV! I have to go destroy the Dib with my new droid. Come on, stand up. What's your name, robot slave?"

X's eyes shone red. No one could rule him, no matter what body he was in. Huge spider legs burst out of his back, pinning ZIM to the ground.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"Eh... eh... GIR! ASSIST YOUR MASTER!"

"I'm gonna get some more mayo!" squeaked GIR, and hopped off the roof.

"No! GIR! Help! GIR!"

"What's going on?" yelled X, "Where am I? Why am I in this thing?"

"What are you talking about? You're obviously just the latest in military battle droids-"

"I'M X, DAMMIT! NOT A ROBOT! I'M IRKEN, AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE THAT!"

But part of his conscience was doubting that, nagging at him. Was he X any longer?

"I... I just don't know..." he sighed, and slumped to the ground, although still pinning ZIM in place.

"Eh? You just seem like a robot to m-"

"AH!" screamed X, and his chest suddenly opened, allowing rows of lasers and missile launchers to fly out on connective tentacles.

"WHAT IS THIS?" he screamed.

"See? You're just another robo- Eep..."

ZIM squeaked and fell trembling to the floor as one of the deadliest missiles in X's arsenal twitched, lighting up along its sides to signify that it had been armed.

"Tell- me- where- I- am!" he said, slowly,

"You're on Earth it is my planet for invasion and the only reason you can be here is to help me conquer it I am ZIM what are you?" ZIM burbled quickly, eyes watering as he dared not blink.

"I'm... SMN- wait, no! I'm X. This suit keeps on putting... ideas... into my head! I don't know wha- wait! Did you say you're ZIM?"

ZIM was a well known laughing stock back on Irk. Even the thieves knew about him. Some motion hologram producers had tried to buy the rights to turn ZIM's briefings into a DHD series. The Tallest had strongly supported them, until realizing it wasn't their legal right.

"Yes! I am ZIM! And now, I guess..."

"Just... take me inside your base... you _do_ have a base, right? You're not that inept that you don't have one, are you?"

"Inept? ZIM? You must be thinking of the wrong Invader!"

"Yeah... sure... just take me inside..."

The sky darkened as X and ZIM crawled off of the roof, the smoke from X's wrecked transport curling up into the sky, obscuring the stars. For a moment, ZIM could see why humans felt they were alone in this huge universe we call home. Then he cleared his head and continued planning their imminent demise and wondering what the meaning behind all that had happened was.


	3. Part 2: Recovery

PART TWO: RECOVERY

Chapter Six

Darkness enveloped X's head as he lay on the couch, but he did not sleep. Sleep seemed to come harder to him now, even though it had become just another option in the Start menu. It was this wretched suburb. Despite its apparent peacefulness, he didn't know anything about it, and that disturbed him. It was only the fact that he knew the entire city that made him such an amazing thief back on Irk. He had to keep telling himself that if ZIM could survive here, then it had to be pretty safe, and he knew that if he couldn't make himself believe this, he'd go mad.

Not that he didn't think he was going insane already, and it wasn't just that his body had become one giant Swiss Army knife. Sometimes, as he lay there, sanity seemed to slip away, leaving only despair and those strange thoughts that floated up from the void. He had nothing left. His body was gone. His life was gone. HIs loved ones were gone. His possessions, what few of them he had, were gone. His future was gone. He had nothing.

And then there were the thoughts... It was like a voice filling every fiber of his being, screaming at him to do something... but what. In his idleness, he flicked through the hard drive that had replaced his heart and soul, sobbing gently to himself. He scrolled through an endless series of video clips and data files. The videos all seemed to be records of his memories, but the data files seemed to be records of all sorts of things. Some were simply the statistics of the ship he had travelled to this god-forsaken hunk of rock in, but others he had no idea about.

He opened one, and huge blueprints sprang up in front of him. They seemed to detail every aspect of his new robot body. He closed it and brought up another one. It too contained a similar cross section. He closed it again, bringing up file after file, every one of them containing information on the- What was it called again? he thought- SMNM.

He scrolled up through the list, until a folder of files caught his eye. It was labeled "Diary: SMNM Design-Completion Stages." Intrigued, he opened it. Suddenly the screaming in his head exploded into a cacophony of howling, yells of pain and anguish, tearing at every fiber of his soul. Hurriedly, he shut the folder, but the screams remained, seemingly forcing him to go on. He could feel they're message in his bones, or the robotic equivalent thereof, "Read!"

Cautiously, and trying to mentally repress the howls, he opened the first file in the folder, and read:

_Date 8746502538_

_Work on upper body structure complete. Remote Pak Control system seems functional, and the entire body seems to respond at least partially to my commands. The brain systems need work, however, and some general design tweaks may be in order._

_I hope that this will all be worthwhile. I try not to be vain, or jealous of my old colleagues successes when they claimed to have designed things that I had created, but just for once, I wish people will honor me for this. That they will remember me for my contributions to the mighty Irken Empire! I hope that one day, people will remember my name._

_The name of Zeffie._

As he read the last line, the screaming pulled him on again, forcing him to continue reading through the night and into the hours of the morning. He felt no tiredness, nor did he feel the need to rest at all. All he knew was that the voices had to be quieted, to be silenced, to be obeyed. The voices were his master. No, not even that. The voices were him.

By the time the sun's rays had begun to creep into the house, X's mind was exhausted. It was no longer physically possible for him to grow tired, but the voices had worn him down. They pressed in from all sides, suffocating him with their blank meaning. As he finished what must have been the thousandth diary entry, X simply fell to the ground, crumpling into a quivering ball.

_"Read!"_

"Can't..."

_"Read!"_

"No..."

_"Read!"_

"No!"

_"READ!"_

"I won't..."

_"READ!"_

The words hit him with actual force, sending his spine arching and limbs twitching. He lost control, flailing every limb as his chest opened and starting pointing huge lasers and rockets at everything in the room. The voices held him to the ground with a mental blade, pinning him to the floor in agony. In front of his eyes, data whirred past as diagrams and diary entries smashed themselves into his eyes and brain, blowing apart his robotic mind in a fantastic array of colors.

X's limbs dropped to the floor, and he lay still.

Chapter Seven

X's eyes twitched, the lights in the sockets blinking on and off. Slowly, agonizingly, his brain began operating again. He tried to pull himself into a vaguely upright position, but a searing pain burst through the fog that was his mind, and he slumped to the floor.

Turning his neck slowly, he was briefly confused by the way the floor seemed to change texture as it spread away from him. He realized, after a few moments, that the carpet that used to be underneath him had been torn apart by the events of the night before. He could distinctly make out several huge gouge marks in the bare metal floor around him, which he took for the reason why there were several long strips of metal clinging to his fingers.

As the pain slowly subsided, he pulled himself to his feet. Swaying slightly, he wandered over to the couch and sat down.

"Rescue."

"No."

"You must."

"Will it make you shut up?"

The voices had come back, it seemed.

"Why do I need to help this person I don't even know?"

"She is your creator."

"I'm X, remember? The bioengineers created me."

"They created your personality. A very disfunctional one, too."

"You're not that great either."

"Help her. She can help you."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"She can get rid of us."

"Us?"

"The voices. Us."

"Damn. You've given me a good reason to help her out."

"Help her."

"I _really _don't feel like it right now."

"You know you have no choice. Would you like us to repeat last night?"

"Preferably, no."

"Then you have no choice."

"Fine! But not yet. Give me a few days... I still have to adjust..."

It was then that ZIM walked into the room, whistling and carrying a plate of pancakes. GIR soon followed carrying a baby. They sat down on the couch next to X, and GIR stuffed the baby into his mouth, issuing gurgles of glee as he did so.

"So... what's happening?" ZIM tried, hoping very much that he wouldn't have missiles aimed at him ever again.

"Not much... ZIM, what do you actually _do_ all day? I mean, you're kind of... uh... 'well known' back on Irk, but no one knows what you do..."

"Eh... I... _conquer this planet!_ Yes... ZIM is conquering!"

"Well, all the other invaders have conquered their planets already, I hear..."

"LIES!"

"No, I've been to a lot of them. Very nice parking structures."

"Eh... not lies... eh... they didn't have to contend with the _humans!_ Yes... the humans are deadly to the touch! And they... uh... vomit acid!"

"Of course they do."

X tried to look sarcastic, then realized that he was no longer physically capable of doing so.

"Yes! That is why ZIM wears his protective disguise! Without it, the very atmosphere would burn off an Irken's skin!"

"I see."

"Now ZIM must be off to study the humans' weaknesses by observing their larva!"

ZIM walked towards the door, hoping that he could escape X for the time being.

"Not so fast!"

Ah well, at least he tried.

"What am_ I _supposed to do?" cried X.

"How should ZIM know?"

"Uh... I guess I don't have much _to_ do... I'll just come with you."

At the very least he could make a quick buck by selling DHDs of ZIM to the Irken public. Of course, that assumed that he ever got back to Irk.

"You can't leave like that!" yelled ZIM, "The humans! They'll know I'm here, and... uh... vomit acid at me!"

"Well, what if I... uh..."

Suddenly, X lost control of his body. He keeled forwards, falling towards the floor, but just as his feet were slipping from under him, he regained control and flipped back up onto his feet. Which weren't even robot feet anymore.

Looking down at himself, X had to struggle to keep himself away from utter hysteria. His hands were pink and had taken on a newfound squishy texture. His body was draped in a dark grey cloak, with a hood dangling down his back. Underneath the cloak was a dark blue shirt with a red Irken sign imprinted on it, the same as the one on his robotic forehead, and a pair of black pants partially covered by black boots. On a later occasion, X admitted that he thought he'd looked "Pretty cool."

But that wasn't all. X rushed to a mirror and gazed at his face. It too was pink and soft, and he had grown strange lumps all over him, two on the sides of his head and one in the middle. Perched on one of the lumps was a strange thin contraption that suspended dark blue lenses in front of his eyes and balanced on the other two lumps. Worst of all, however, was the abundance of thin, long yellow antennae dangling from his scalp, which obscured his vision and ran down the back of his neck.

"What... the... f-"

"Well... eh... that was kinda cool!" said ZIM, "Very good. Let's... uh... let's go!"

"What's happening to me?" screamed X, and ZIM dived for cover behind the couch, landing heavily on GIR. GIR giggled and shoved several babies into ZIM's mouth.

"You want a baby?"

Meanwhile, the voices were surfacing again, tearing at X's already fractured sanity.

"Quiet, you fool! This is normal! I simply activated your hologram disguise program!"

"Wha- wha- what did you say? Normal? Hologram? But... I'm... squishy... it's _weird!_"

"Simply a pattern of electrons simulating texture above your metal body."

"So... why? Why do I look so... _hideous?_"

"This is how all humans look. Let me explain."

And he did. ZIM lay behind the couch for several minutes, wondering why X kept on nodding his head and saying "Ah," "Oh," "Really?" and other things of such a meaning. It wasn't like anyone was _talking_ to him.

"Well... eh... I guess that's all worked out then," said X as the voice finished explaining the nuances of the disgusting humans. It was actually quite nauseating. "Uh... come on out from behind the couch, ZIM. We'd better go to that place... with the larva..."

The two wandered down the street to school, ZIM taking care to remain on the opposite side of the street as X. They walked in and ZIM took his seat. X, looking around and seeing no seats, grabbed a nearby child and hurled them out the window before taking the newly vacated seat. Miss Bitters pretended not to notice. A student was a student, it didn't really matter which student.

She stood up.

"You're late _again_, ZIM. What's your excuse this time? And don't try the "mutant beaver attack" excuse again. I know for a fact that those bite marks were cause by rabid urban ninja wallabies."

"Uh... I am sorry, oh great teacher, but ZIM was busy... helping the new foreign exchange student!" He pointed at X.

Miss Bitters grunted, but seeing no obvious flaws in ZIM's excuse, except possibly that the new student was as tall as a fully grown adult, returned to her desk.

"Today class, we are having a pop quiz on modern politics. By the end of class, I expect to see a sixty page essay from each of you explaining how modern politics will doom us all!"

One of the girls frowned, started coughing mucus onto her desk, continued coughing mucus onto her desk, stopped, and squeaked, "But... but our only textbooks are brochures for various ways to enjoy a weekend in Seattle..."

Miss Bitters loomed over the unfortunate girl. "Well I'm sorry, Zeeta! When I was in school, all _we_ had to learn was learnt by trying to find meaning in the fetid organs of week-old fish!"

Zeeta's bottom lip trembled, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Now work! All of you!" screamed the teacher before sliding back towards her desk.

Hurriedly, all the children took out paper and started rubbing small sticks on it, leaving a trail of carbon across the sheet.

X, not wanting to seem strange because of his lack of writing utensils, grabbed the girl next to him and threw her through the ceiling before quickly switching seats.

After ten minutes, X realized that nothing useful would come of just sitting here, and his eyes darted around, looking for an exit. They fell on the hole in the window on the other side of the class room, and X ducked beneath his desk and slowly crawled across the room. When he got there, he hopped up on the windowsill, but just before he jumped down...

"MISS BITTERS! The new kid is trying to-"

The loudmouthed child never finished that sentence, however, since a small dart flew into his neck, sending several thousand volts of electricity through the unfortunate wretches body. The child slumped to the floor, his heart stopped. Sensing this, the dart initiated a second burst of excruciating energy, effectively jump starting the vital organ and sending the child into a mad screaming fit.

Smiling, X stared down at the patch in his arm where the dart had flown from. _I could grow to like this_, he thought to himself, before leaping across the school yard.

Chapter Eight

The metropolis stretched before X like a never ending forest. That is, a never-ending forest made of concrete and glass. But it was pretty none the less, and being among sky scrapers made X feel slightly more at home.

He'd scaled the largest building he could find in the surrounding area, and took a deep, simulated breath of fresh air. The SMNM seemed to be adjusting to suit his needs, sensing that he just couldn't remain sane without some of the feelings that a regular being has. And it was admittedly a lot easier to climb when your muscles are made up of pistons and energy cells. Technically he could of used his spider-legs or the built-in jet pack he'd discovered when browsing through blueprints, but where's the fun in that? Besides, then the tracking device would be able to transmit his location to the Massive. X had no way of knowing that the tracker was now better suited to a job as a paper weight than as a piece of military equipment.

A faint sound reached his ears. The moment he tried to concentrate on it, a scrolling sound wave appeared in the top right corner of his vision, and a greatly amplified version of the sound was played back to him. He stopped it. He rewound it and listened again. That was odd. He'd hardly ever heard a scream of fear before. There'd been plenty of screaming back on Irk, but it had all been screams of rage. If you got robbed on Irk, you had only yourself to blame.

He threw himself into empty space, arms spread out wide like a bird, a creature which he had only just become familiar with. The wind whistled past him as he hurtled downwards towards the street. The screaming grew louder, and he could tell that it was coming from an alley nearby. He extended a spider-leg from his Pak and grabbed the side of the building, hurling himself sideways with it.

He landed in the entrance to the alley with an impact heavy enough to send a spider web of cracks through the sidewalk around him. A man in the alley span around, pointing a small L-shaped piece of metal at him. It was some kind of primitive gun, X was sure of that.

"What the f--- was that?" yelled the man. "Oh... it's just a kid. Hey kid, run along. Don't make me do something I don't want to."

X walked forwards slowly. Behind the man, he saw, was a large plastic container filled with black plastic bags. The smelt like trash, but X didn't really mind. Trash was a prevalent smell on Irk. Lying against the container was a human female. Blood was trickling down from her scalp and nose, and she was her breathing was rapid and frightened.

"Come on, kid. Don't make me hurt you!"

The mugger was carrying a bag that matched the woman's clothing. X could guess what would be inside.

"I have nothing against thieves," X said slowly, meaningfully, "Nothing like a little thieving to get the heart going in the morning. But hurting someone who won't even hurt you? Isn't robbing them enough?"

"Hey kid, come on! I swear..." the man raised the piece of metal to eye level, "I swear I will if I have to!"

"Try it. I dare you." said X, spider-legs slowly unfurling from his back, blocking the light from the entrance to the alley and making him look like a giant fly spreading its wings.

"Oh my god!" screamed the man, and he pulled the trigger. Fire burst out of the barrel, propelling a spinning chunk of lead faster than the speed of sound. A huge crack sounded as the bullet broke the sound barrier, and the mans arms recoiled backwards from the force of the shot.

There was a small clink as the bullet collided with X, and the bullet fell to the ground, leaving no mark on him other than a small spreading ripple in the hologram.

"Now," he said, his disguise retracting slightly to expose his glowing red eyes, "Care to try that again?"

The man screamed, pumping the trigger as fast as the gun would fire. The shots bounced harmlessly off of X's reinforced body. The gun's ammo clip was emptied in a matter of seconds, though, and the mugger had to reach into his coat to try and grab another clip.

"I don't think so," said X, and reinforced his statement with a spider-leg through the shoulder. The man flew backwards, blood squirting from his wound. It was really just a small flesh wound, but when you're being assaulted by some kind of robot spider-child, you don't stop to think how badly you're hurt. He screamed and clawed at the blood soaked hole in his coat, dropping the purse.

X didn't bother to wait for thanks from the woman, as she looked almost as scared as the mugger. He simply said "I think you'd better leave before he gets up," before leaping away and scampering up a building with his spider-legs.

He could grow to like this. He really could. Being bullet proof, and probably safe from many other weapons, not just primitive launched projectiles, was just the start. The suit recorded everything he saw or felt onto a huge hard drive that he could then view and edit at his leisure. He was currently busy rewatching his confrontation with the mugger. It really was amazing. He watched in slow motion the bullets spiraled out of the gun in a burst of flame, then saw an advanced x-ray of how his spider-leg had damaged not just the man's bone, but also skin, veins, and muscles. He watched a thermal scan of the blood spraying out of the wound, and could count the number of droplets that splattered on the ground.

This suit... this _body_ was so advanced... Although he did miss being a creature of flesh and bone, it was clear that being made of a highly resiliant metal alloy did have its advantages. X rewound his memory and watched again as the spike of metal drove through the muggers arm, focusing his view on the man's face. He looked absolutely terrified. He wound the memory back further and watched the man's face as X was just entering the alley. The man seemed confident enough. What could a kid, only 15 or 16 years old in Earth years, do to him? But then the cold truth hit the man with the force of a runaway freight train loaded with depleted uranium. The man's expression was replaced by a terrible fear, hideous, yet beautiful in its own way.

X looked down at his arms, now simply plates of overlapping metal filled with pneumatics and other technology. He flexed them, and they bent perfectly. He twisted his arms around themselves, and was surprised to find that he was even more flexible than ever before. But he had one person to thank for this new freedom, and it damn well wasn't either of the Almighty Tallest.

"Free her."

"I will."


	4. Part 3: Rescue incomplete

PART 3: RESCUE

Chapter Nine

ZIM was walking home after a hard day at Skool. It had been a good day of work, however, and he had planted brain probes into twelve more children today. It was very simple to do, really. He simply had to hide probes in the strange porcelain thrones in the bathrooms, wait until a student went into one of the little cubicles, and press a button on a remote control. At this point the probe's drill begins to spin, and it leaps up and, well, the rest should be obvious.

However, as he rounded the corner into his cul-de-sac, he noticed something he'd never seen before. Not from the outside, at least. The roof of his house was slowly opening, and inside, next to his severely outdated Voot Cruiser space flight technology...

"Oh, hi ZIM! Hope you don't mind me borrowing this!"

And then ZIM's spaceship took off and zoomed away into the empty blackness of space.

ZIM stood open mouthed, staring at the place where the ship had dwindled from view.

"#$#," was all he could manage to say.

Chapter Ten

X looked down at the screens surrounding him. It had been a while since he'd actually flown a ship. Being a thief in a big city didn't really require it, but as a child he had been taught to fly. It was all part of the military training.

The ship was very old, but thankfully this meant it had the same controls as one of the training ships X had learnt in. In fact, it was uncannily familiar. X stuck his head underneath the main control panel and grinned. There was still a small sticker loosely clinging to the underside of the controls that read:

_Irken Military Training Ship_

_Model: Light Travel Class (Voot)_

_Serial Number: 10011100110101010101_

X made a note that someone had crossed out the word "Serial" and written in crayon "CEREAL!" It must have been that weird robot that ZIM had... What was its name again? Not that he had to remember anymore, a quick check through his hard drive would reveal any of those minor details.

The thief stared at the control panel and let his mind scan it for data. The scan revealed the same information as the sticker did. The military always recycled old ships, though, so the only way ZIM could have got his hands on this would be by stealing it. X decided that ZIM, having his request for a ship declined, had decided to "borrow" a vehicle anyway so that he could go and help "invade." Not that ZIM was even an invader.

His attention returning to the controls, X found the navigation screen and punched in a few numbers.

"Voice?" he asked cautiously. The voices had remained relatively quiet since he had decided to help Zeffie, but X was in no mood to get them talking again.

"What?" replied a lone voice. Not having a whole chorus chant out the answer definitely made it more bearable, although having your own brain talk to you is always disconcerting. It makes you question your sanity.

"Where did you say Zeffie was banished to?"

"I didn't. But if you must know, it's planet Laborisian, the empire's main planet for menial, pointless, and grueling mindless labor."

"Oh."

"Coordinates 297285-953812-4198734"

"Thanks."

X punched the numbers into the controls and hit the big red button labeled "Go." The Armada went with the philosophy that anything that sounds confusing can be dumbed down to grade school terms. The Voot owners manual was probably filled with pretty water color pictures and text like, "Bob likes to fly. Bob flies by typing in the nineteen digit destination number key (see Intergalactic Coordinate Flying System, page 26087)."

The Voot sped through space, occasionally doing unnecessary loop-de-loops and emitting clouds of smoke. X was surprised, he'd thought even ZIM could do better than _this!_

However, the journey passed uneventfully, and soon Laborisian loomed up in front of the ship. The planet was simply one giant lump of rock, filled with meteor craters and seemingly lacking any atmosphere. There were three huge clear domes jutting out of the rock, and in the middle of each was a huge tube that seemed to constantly be jettisoning small chunks of the planets surface into space.

The voice explained, "The laborers are forced to mine away at the planets surface every day, and every night the produce of the day is shot into space."

"Produce?"

"I'd say rocks, but in a colony of several billion, do you really think that rocks are the only stuff that is produced?"

"Stuf- ooh..."

"No one ever bothered to make a sewer system, you see."

"Yuck."

"Very."

The Voot slowly began its course towards the docking bay of the nearest dome. However, as the ship neared, the communicator sprang to life.

"What the hell are you doing? No one is allowed to visit! NO ONE"

The speaker was a Hobo, technically, but a more viciously scarred and brutalized one X had never seen. Not in the streets of Irk, where being a guard meant being hit over the head with a blunt (or sometimes not so blunt) instrument each time you started to regain consciousness.

"Wow," said X, "I guess you've been through your share of riots here."

"No," replied the Hobo, slightly confused, "I've never sustained a single serious injury in my life. Unlike Bob here. Why do you ask?"

"Uh... no reason."

"Ooo-kay... Anyway, NO ONE!"

"Oh, that;s fine," said X as he hurled himself out of the Voot and into space.

His spider legs snapped out, grabbing onto the docking bay's huge metal doors. Tracker be damned, they knew he was here anyway. He crawled along the doors until he came to the thin line where the doors met. It was airtight, obviously, but that could be easily fixed. A thin laser whipped out of his Pak on a small prehensile wire and focused a beam on the crack. He didn't want the hole so big that he couldn't weld it shut again.

The hole made, two of X's spider legs whipped into it and started trying to wrench the doors apart. X could feel the insane pressure, even in a fully robotic body. Slowly, however, the doors began to inch away from each other. Soon X could crouch down and swing his hole body into the crack between them and set all four of his spider-legs to work on pushing the doors. The gap widened far enough to let a small space ship through, and X leapt out between the doors and into the airlock. A tentacle whipped out of his back as he landed, grasping the Voot Cruiser and hurling it through the rapidly closing doors.

"Hey..." thought X, "I didn't tell the suit to do that... I didn't even know I could do that..."

"I did," said the voice in his head, "You'll find it much easier to rescue Zeffie with a ship inside the station rather than floating in the vacuum of space. She'll have been stripped of all her military issue equipment, and that includes an Atmospheric Bubble Projector. There would have been no way for you to get her onto that ship, had it been outside."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks, I guess."

X tuned his communicator to the channel that had been transmitting to the ship. In the corner of his vision, a screen bearing the malformed Hobo appeared again. He seemed to be having a fit, yelling hysterical orders to someone off camera. He obviously hadn't ever had someone break into his labor camp before. He was probably trying to figure out the mentality of someone who'd even want to break in.

X cleared his non-existant throat in order to gain the guard's attention.

"Hello?"

In the little screen, the beast turned around.

"What do you want? Why?"

"Listen, and listen closely. Either open up these secondary doors and let me inside, or I swear I'm going to bust the open myself and seriously f--- up everything inside. Thank you."

X closed the line, and the screen faded.

"Tactfully put," said the voice.

"Shut up," replied X, welding the hole in the outer door shut again.

_More coming soon!_


End file.
